I won’t be voting that day. Eddie and I chose the absentee route for two reasons:
I believe scientists that the Coronavirus is real and not a hoax perpetrated by the Democratic Party. (I mean, REALLY? A U.S. party is going to get the whole world in on a hoax? To what end?)
Hence, I want to limit potential exposure by not putting myself in close contact with people I don’t know.
I’ve had in-depth conversations with two long-time friends who support you. One was a rational, calm conversation where we agreed more than we disagreed. One was … not like that at all.
Here’s my response to some slogans you and your supporters use.
“Make America Great Again”
I thought America was pretty great pre-2016.
“Keep America Great”
Sorry, but America is not great at the moment. I am NOT better off than I was four years ago. I’m middle class and paying WAY more taxes. The industry in which I work has been negatively affected by your xenophobic policies. And as someone who travels, I can tell you that America is an international embarrassment.
“Life begins at conception”
Fantastic! So that means you’ll protect women endangered by a pregnancy, the children after they are born, old people who might get COVID-19, poor people, immigrants and people on death row. Right? Pro-life means that you support all lives.
“My body, my choice”
This one makes my head explode as it has been co-opted for the anti-mask movement. If you want personal autonomy, great. I’m all for that. But you can’t pick and choose. (See above.)
It should come as no surprise that I will not be voting for you. This is not to say I haven’t voted Republican in the past, and wouldn’t do so again if he/she were the right person.
But you are not the right person.
And the Republican Party is not the Republican Party of old. You know, the one that wanted a smaller government, fiscal responsibility, personal autonomy, etc.
I care about LBGTQIA rights, universal healthcare, eradicating systemic racism, reducing the deficit, upholding personal choice, maintaining separation of church and state — all those things that you are against.
Thanks for running a marathon of “My Strange Addiction” last night. My strange addiction is “My Strange Addiction” (among other shows of its ilk). And it hasn’t been on in ages.
I thought it was a new season, but apparently I just stumbled across episodes I hadn’t seen. (Not sure how that is possible, but yay for me.)
I hate to criticize you in the middle of a pandemic. I know you are doing the best you can. So let me just provide some well-meaning advice based on what I experienced leading up to and during Curriculum Night.
Send a schedule and teacher links more than just a few moments before the event begins. You could have saved so much parent worry. It also might have boosted attendance. I managed to attend six sessions (out of 10 that I tried). The most present in any session? Five, including the teacher and me. In one session, it was just Dominic’s Geometry teacher and me. She is a lovely woman.
Make sure the links work.
This is what happened when I followed the provided link. There was no meeting code.
Either extend the time per class or just have the teachers record overview videos. Seven minutes is not enough time (not even for that childhood game š).
Strongly suggest that teachers use the same platform. Zoom worked fine. Google classroom was hit and miss. Microsoft Teams didn’t work (no audio).
I’m not trying to be a jerk to you in these difficult times. But I do want to be an active parent. Please make it easier for us. I don’t think these are unreasonable, outlandish suggestions.
God love you. I can’t even imagine how difficult your life is right now. Thank you so much for all that you do for woefully low pay.
This post is addressed specifically to my sons’ teachers.
I do not envy you.
I appreciate you.
I know you are doing the best job you can.
That said, I don’t think I will be attending Curriculum Night tonight because it is just too confusing for me.
And this is what worries me.
I have a number of college degrees.
I am technologically adept.
I teach online and have created online courses.
Yet I CANNOT FIGURE OUT how and when to log in tonight. Each of my children has seven teachers plus homeroom. They are at the same school. I’ve received SO MANY emails.
Interestingly enough, only half of the teachers have sent the emails. I haven’t heard anything from the other half. Ninth-grade teachers are much more communicative (five of eight) than 10th grade (two of eight).
Here’s the biggest problem: Most emails don’t include times. I filled out the form. This teacher did not send the link. Also, she sent that email at 10 p.m. the night before, giving parents just over 24 hours to respond.
Another teacher wants us to join during the day. DURING THE DAY! You know, when most people are working their full-time jobs.
There are only two of you who have provided an easy guide like this:
But guess what: Those two? Scheduled at the SAME TIME. Of course. You know how I know? I had to do this old school:
Nothing written means I got nothing from the teacher.
Then later — at 4 p.m. today — I got a text from the principal with this schedule:
The principal sent this ONE HOUR before the event is supposed to begin. You’ll note that the times don’t line up with what the teachers sent. And how am I supposed to attend two sessions (because I have two kids) at the same time in the space of fewer than seven minutes?
If it is this confusing for me — an educated technophile who works in education — I cannot imagine how difficult it is for parents who aren’t. Or parents who speak English as a second language. Or parents who do not have access to technology.
And you know it is difficult for the students to keep up with all this.
I can see why some students are already completely checked out (e.g., Dominic).
All I’m asking for is some consistency, at the VERY least.
Maybe I’ll see one of you tonight. We’ll see.
Thanks again in general for all that you do. These are weird, challenging times.
Today we have been married longer than many of my students have been alive.
Yikes.
One of your friends wrote on Facebook about her parents being married 58 years. She said, “It has never been perfect, but it has always been interesting.”
Yeah. What she said.
The last couple of years have been TOUGH for us. Hormonal teenagers, a big move, new jobs, a PANDEMIC — many factors have made it difficult.
I try to remember why we’ve lasted this long.
It can be summed up in two photos:
This is actually when my obsession with bad taxidermy began: Eddie and I were replicating specimens while waiting for a kids field trip to begin.
Clearly the same sense of humor.
In fact, this time five years ago, we were in Italy. One of the highlights of the trip was taking photos with a man sleeping next to us at a restaurant.
We ended up seeing our new friend the next day. He was looking a bit worse for wear.
Interestingly, later in the trip we became somewhat of a zoo exhibit ourselves.
Yes, those are the fish that eat dead skin.
In addition to the funny factor, you also are willing to go along with my crazy plans.
Halloween 2012: I handled the costumes and makeup. I’m crafty once a year.
We also find the same things horrifying. Like a house full of dolls and tchotchkes. Shudder.
Your face says it all.
Thank you for two great kids and many years of good memories. Hope we can keep on laughing!
I’m here today because I have so much work to do, and I needed peace (read: time away from Dominic complaining about the Wi-Fi).
It’s a nice day, so I’m on the balcony. I’m worried about getting a contact high from the clouds of chronic. (New building name: Chronic Condo. Or THC Towers. Or High House.)
The last time I was here to get work done, I got to party with Cardi B, along with everyone else on their balconies.
One time, I was having a girls’ night with my friend Becky (with the good hair).
Some guys two floors down and two balconies over saw us.
Dude 1: Hey Ladies! Dude 2: You with the hair! Dude 3: We’ve got weed. Come on down!
Becky and I are middle-aged women. We are not going to party with random guys — in a pandemic, no less.
But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t weirdly flattered.
Anyway, thanks for providing plenty of entertainment.
My boys went back to school today. Usually I’d post a photo from their first day of the new school year on social media. This year, it seems silly.
Their bedrooms are their school.
Here it is, for what it’s worth:
Dominic is in 10th grade. Gideon is in ninth.
They are feeling overwhelmed. Seven classes each. All virtual. Mostly asynchronous.
(I’m even overwhelmed by the number of parent emails and texts I’m getting.)
There are thousands of kids doing the same thing, so the network was overloaded. Dominic was in a synchronous classroom by 9 a.m.
It took Gideon until 11 to get online.
But this is the way it is right now. I’m not complaining.
One of the cool things is that they decided they wanted to go to the store to get their own supplies. No ridiculously long and detailed supply lists this year. Thank GOD. (They rarely even used most of the things we just HAD to get.)
One of the not-so-cool things is that we ended up going to Walmart. (Shudder. Big stores now give me anxiety.)
On the way home, Dominic and I had this conversation:
Him: I really would prefer actually going to school. I’ll take my chances with the virus. Me: Great! So you want to put your brother at risk, me at risk, and also your father who has asthma and likely would get the worst of it and die.* Him: Well, when you put it like that, I guess virtual is fine. Me: Mmmhmm.
So, DCSS, keep up the good work. Difficult times call for creative solutions. We will persevere.
You know that adage: What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.
Sincerely,
Beth, DCSS parent
* Yeah, I exaggerated, but not by much. Eddie has had so many colds that graduated to pneumonia.
Outdoor dining where we could load up on loaded tater tots (and feel our arteries leaden)
The trip also had things we didn’t need:
People without masks
Pickled pigs’ feet
A ridiculously tight valve on the kayak that made it nearly impossible to deflate (Luckily, Mama can charm passing fellow rednecks.)
The loaded tots (Seriously.)
It’s funny to me your brother was bent out of shape and jealous when we got back. I invited him. He didn’t want to go. As usual.
Dominic: I thought you were just going for a day. I didn’t know it was an overnight trip. Me: You didn’t listen. I tried to tell you about the cool cabin, but you weren’t having it.
Anyway, I enjoyed spitting cherry pits off the balcony with you while we listened to Alan Jackson (in true redneck fashion).
I hope you’ll do things like this with your kids if you ever have them. Or at least remember these times when I’m old(er) and (more) decrepit and unable to haul a deflated kayak up and down a hill.
And it was then, 30 minutes in, that someone finally explained why religious folks would support Trump:
It’s not about four more years. It’s about 37 more years. It’s about two more Supreme Court justices who are pro-life, pro-Israel, freedom of religion and freedom of speech.
Without that, according to him, “We won’t have the freedoms we grew up with.”
“What freedoms are those?” I was wondering when the dude brought out his saxophone.
I’m not kidding.
Jentezen Franklin plays āAmerica the Beautiful.ā He didnāt follow with āBaker Street,ā sadly.
I guess he didn’t want Cain to upstage him.
This was getting a talent show kind of vibe, so I was excited to see what Bishop Harry Jackson would do.
But he just promoted his new book and explained racism to a room of mostly white people. Y’all were polite, but unenthusiastic.
Bishop Harry Jackson didnāt show off his musical talents.
Interestingly, he was the first person to mention the president by name: 45 minutes into the event.
Pro-life: Just unborn babies, apparently
Pro-marriage: Only between a man and a woman
Pro-freedom: Religious freedom to discriminate
Pro-constitution: A Tea Party battle cry regarding the expansion of the federal government (maybe)
She talked about squash plants and chipmunks. I was a little confused. But then she said:
Some things never change. Some things do change. There was a change of the guard in 2016.
And then she said something about Planned Parenthood “ripping little babies up.”
I see. Abortion. That’s the main driver.
OK, then. Let me say this about that:
No one is hyped to get an abortion. It’s a last resort. Also, no one is “pro abortion.” So let’s agree on one thing: The goal is to reduce abortions. How do we do that?
As we’ve seen with prohibition and the “war on drugs,” making them illegal won’t work. People will find a way, but it makes it very dangerous for women. So to me, the solution is to put more money into sex education, healthcare and contraception.
If you are pro-life (and really, aren’t we all?) then you should be supporting organizations like Planned Parenthood that actively help women with the above needs.
Alright.
Moving on to the next speaker, Richard Lee, who is as orange as the evening’s celebrant: the Cheeto in Chief.
He didn’t address abortion like everyone else. His main beef seemed to be with what is being taught in school: “garbage.”
Oh, and the Antichrist in the form of Democrats.
The Democratic Party has been taken over by the Antichrist. It’s an evil party.
I thank God that he sent Donald J. Trump to us. He is a gift to the church of Jesus Christ.
As much as you seemed to like this statement, I could tell you were restless. He willfully went over his allotted time and joked about it.
You were ready for the final act: Pastor Paula White. I found out later she is married to Jonathan Cain. Ah. He’s her third husband. With overlaps in relationships. So she’s truly taking those commandments seriously.
I’d like to nominate my son Gideon for Best Actor in a Leading Role. As Prisoner No. 4 in “Quarantine 2020,” he was as good, if not better, than last year’s winner Joaquin Phoenix.
The humanity — the pathos — he brought to his role really is unparalleled.
Just look at his commitment to character in this scene with his father:
And his performance during last night’s climax when all our test results came back negative?
It featured effusive kissing, hugging, brother-wrestling: All you would expect from an Oscar-winning performance. The display featured the emotional depth of Sally Field in “Norma Rae.” (And watching it was akin to watching her acceptance speech for “Places in the Heart.”)
This is the article that examines presidential laziness.
I filled out the form. This teacher did not send the link. Also, she sent that email at 10 p.m. the night before, giving parents just over 24 hours to respond.
Observe and report 